On July 1, 2009, I launched this blog and my foundation and Operation Jack. What is Operation Jack? It was my attempt to try to do some good. My middle child, Jack, is severely autistic and realistically isn’t ever going to amount to much in this world. I didn’t want him to go through this world and just be a random person who just took up space and resources. I wanted him to make a difference.
I had this idea that I would run 60 marathons in a single year as an attempt to raise awareness and money in my fight against autism. I ended up running 61 marathons in 2010, grossing just south of $90,000 and creating the Operation Jack Marathon in the process. In the final mile of that 61st marathon, I told my good friend Ben Delaney, who was running with me step for step at that point, that I was so glad it was over. He told me that really, it was just the beginning.
That was a cool thing to hear and it motivated me. I decided to keep pushing forward with Operation Jack, just like I did when I launched it about 18 months before that day. I’d just take it day to day without a plan and something good would happen. I took a break and ran a race for me and finally broke three hours in a marathon. Then I ran as a charity chaser for the San Francisco Marathon, raising more than $4,000 to fight cancer. Then I put on a six-hour timed race to raise money to support the families of wounded soldiers. Then there was the second Operation Jack Marathon. And the third. And now the fourth.
But I’m really starting to think that I’m done. I cling to my 61 marathons in 2010 like I’m Al Bundy talking about his four touchdowns in a single game.
I’m totally Al Bundy. I’m beat up, I’m aging in a hurry, I fight for my family, I accept the fact that life kicks me in the teeth on a daily basis, and I once ran 61 marathons in a single year.
I’m totally exhausted, partially from biting off more than I can chew, partially from being so emotionally attached to this, partially from not being able to let go and I’m sure also for two relocations in 13 months and an absolute nightmare of a year in Colorado, which destroyed my wife and my son.
I don’t know what to do or how to do it any more. I think about it all the time when I run, that maybe it’s just time to let go and let this be a thing of the past. My wife Tiffany told me when I asked her in April 2009 about running all those marathons to try to make something happen, “Don’t not do it and always wonder, what if?”
So, I did it. I tried my best. I didn’t just talk about it — I got out there and gave it a try. I’ll never wonder, what if. And I’ll be forever grateful for the memories and experiences. Maybe I’ll find a second (well probably third or fourth by this point) wind. But mentally, I’m going to spend the next four months preparing myself to let Operation Jack become a memory.
Cheesy plug: I say four months because that’s how long it is until the Operation Jack Marathon. Check out the site at operationjack.org/marathon … we have our race in Los Angeles, our race in Kansas City and our race in Portland, Oreg., plus our satellite runs. Also trying to work on some other things. If you want to participate, email me at sam@operationjack.org and let me know![subscribe2]
Jake says
I bought you were the mascot?
Layla says
I’ve said the same thing Tiff said, and I believe it now more than ever: “Don’t not do it and always wonder, what if?” People don’t ever say, “I wish I had stayed later at work.” But they do say, “I wish I had tried to run a marathon.” You won’t ever be haunted by the thought of, “I wonder if I could have run more than a marathon every week for a year.” You did that. You also won’t ever find yourself thinking, “I wish I had tried to make people more aware of autism,” because you DID that.
The thing is, you’re still doing that. You and your family will always make others more aware of autism. Maybe it won’t be through running 61 marathons in a year, but that’s OK. You’ve got a marathon in your son’s name now, and every year it makes more people aware of autism. You’ll never know the true reach, but because of you and Jack and your family, I bet a lot of people look more compassionately at those with autism. Rather than seeing the person as someone who is “weird,” they see someone who just wants their world to be normal. Rather than avoiding the person with autism, they smile and say hello. And that means you have done something good, Sam.
Brandon says
Sam, I’m sorry that things have been so hard for you and your family. Most of us can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like, what a “typical” day for your family actually consists of. The work you’ve done, and continue to do, is very important, and will hopefully mean that one day things will be easier for kids like Jack. Keep fighting the good fight.
Though this was mostly a somber post, I will admit to laughing at your comparison to Al Bundy, and his 4 touchdowns in a single game 🙂
Tony Rezek says
You say Jack will never amount to much of anything, yet look at what he inspired you to accomplish. Furthermore, look at how many people you have inspired. All because of Jack. I think that amounts to something.
Brenda Stallings says
Sam, don’t think of this as the end. I first saw your blog on twitter and flew Ito California to run your race and raise money for Autism. I met some pretty wonderful people during that race and it raised my awareness of autism.
Jack may have some challenges in life that limits his current and future abilities BUT he’s inspired you and those hundred of miles away to come together for 13.1 or 26.2 miles and fight the Autism fight together.
Don’t let Operation Jack go.
Ben Delaney says
That day in Manhatten Beach wasn’t the end nor the ‘finish line’. If that was the end, the ‘finish line’, then what was 61 marathons, the raising of awareness, spreading the word, and all the work for? Was it just for the ‘stupid human trick’ so often you refer to it as?
People who lay the ground work for great things in their lives rarely see the ‘finish line’. They are the ones who lay the road for people to follow and pick up the torch to continue what was started. And often those same people who start off the journey, it is because of a personal, sometimes, selfish goal. Yet along the way, that mesage influences others to join and help, some because they deal with the same issue. Others, simply inspired by the love of a parent for their child.
Even though the core idea never changes, the goal will shrink and grow, passion ebb and flow, support come and go, but there will always be people on that road willing to support, pick up the torch, because although you, and some of us, may never see the ‘finish line’, we will always run the race because we all support the hard work.
Someday we all hope someone will cross that ‘finish line’, arms out stretched, into the waiting arms of people who have worked side by side for a common goal all inspired by a ‘stupid human trick’ started at a finish line in Manhatten Beach, on December 26, 2010.
Pick yourself up and remember why you gave up every weekend for 1 year. If you need a reminder, walk down the hall of your home, and open 3 doors. Stop, look, love at each one of your kids. That is Operation Jack.